


Never Pegged You for a Sinner

by SpaceWaffleHouseTM



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: A lot of fluff for a crack fic, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Implied/Referenced Pegging, Kissing, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) is a Little Shit, Pegging, Post-Canon, Sexy Times, Soft Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Woman on Top, post s05e08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM
Summary: He’s known from early on that she makes him vulnerable, that around her, and only her, he can feel pain. It’s something he’s long since come to terms with and for the most part, accepted…Until one glorious night with a strap-on leaves him limping around the LAPD office.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 13
Kudos: 112





	Never Pegged You for a Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> Local idiot binge watched all of Lucifer in a week and started rewatching it immediately and this is what the brain created as a result: more at eleven.

The moment the sunlight hits his eyes in the morning, he starts to wake. It’s an early hour, he doesn’t need a clock to know that, but for once, Lucifer is perfectly content to be up with the actual morning star.

Or rather, he has been _more_ content with it, as of late. It’s been two months, one week, and four days since hell froze over for the first time, and in the time since then, he’s spent nearly every night with the Detective in his bed. Some nights are like the first, intense and passionate in ways he’s never known before—he supposes it does feel different when he’s actually in love with the person he’s sleeping with—and others they just hold each other.

It’s kind of nice sometimes, just holding her. Something about her warmth makes him feel safe, protected, even though she leaves him vulnerable to everything else. He’s never trusted anyone the way he trusts her, and now, two months into their relationship, he’s almost certain that feeling will never fade.

They’ve worked hard to get here, having taken it at an easy pace over the past couple of months as they adjust to what it’s like to be together. This is, after all, his first real relationship—the first one where the love between them is mutual, at least. He doesn’t want to mess things up—he _can’t_ mess things up. Losing her again would—

Well, it would hurt more than anything in the world, least of all the ache he’s feeling from their… _activities_ last night. He’d known the moment they’d finished—and with their stamina, it had been a while—that until he had some time away from Chloe, he was in for a world of hurt. There was only so much lube could do when she had one of the biggest dildos he’d ever seen and it had been thousands of years for him since the last time he’d been pegged—thanks, hell.

Maybe that’s his fault for not starting with something easy, but he has no regrets. Right now, she’s spooned around him, her body pressed up against his while one of her arms is wrapped around his waist, her hand balled loosely over the place where his heart beats.

Most importantly, they are both blissfully, wonderfully naked. These are his favorite mornings, the ones where he gets to wake up with her and realize his nights aren’t dreams anymore, he’s no longer waking up with an embarrassing wet spot in his trousers—or on his sheets for those nights he sleeps in the nude—but he’s actually with her.

Peace, however, never lasts long in their world. Before long, Chloe shifts against him, and while she’s humming softly with bliss, he winces, a small, high-pitched groan falling from his lips that causes them both to freeze.

The hand over his chest flexes, palm flattening against his now racing heart, and he sighs upon realizing she’s awake. “Good morning, Detective.”

Another soft hum fills his ears in response, then a kiss is pressed to his shoulder. “Good morning.” A pause, then he feels her other hand in his hair, fingers stroking gently as the ache subsides just a little. “I went a little too hard last night, didn’t I?”

“Wh—No, no, you were perfect, it’s just—” He laughs. “Been a while.”

“Right, and the whole vulnerability thing—”

“Indeed,” he replies, resting a hand over hers. “But you should know, I don’t regret a moment of it, even if I am rather likely to spend the day with a limp.”

What he can only describe as a giggle vibrates against his skin, then she shifts behind him, fingers abandoning his hair so she can prop herself upon her elbow, and he feels her gaze shift to his face. “My proudest achievement.”

A smile parting his lips, he turns slightly, just enough that he can see the blurry, close-up details of her face as she stares down at his. “Quite right.” Then he turns a little more, opening himself up just enough that he’s able to lean forward, and capture her lips in a soft, surprisingly tender kiss.

It’s not what he expected, given how intense things had gotten last night, but morning after kisses with the Detective have become his new favorite thing. He loves them more than the whiskey he drinks like mother’s milk, more than making Amenadiel’s baby laugh with his Devil face, and somehow even more than cracking jokes at poor Dan’s expense.

Each one carries with it the same sweetness, the same raw affection, no matter what the circumstances of the night before. Whether they’ve had a relatively quiet night or he’s found she’s into some new kink of his and they’ve spent _hours_ learning each other anew, they always come back to this.

Something in the way her lips move against his makes him think the many, many millennia of his long life have been worth it, that if this is what he was waiting for all that time, he doesn’t regret the wait. Well, maybe a lot of it he could’ve lived without, but he’s not mad about the end result. Not mad at all.

Chloe’s hand shifts, resting against his cheek as he rolls over completely, wincing against her as the soreness inside of him flares to life once more. _Shit,_ it’s been so long since he’s been well and properly fucked like this, since someone really made him feel it later. All of his past partners, though, had never been able to make him feel vulnerable the way she does.

That soreness, that ache, makes him feel _alive._

Pulling back from the kiss, his partner shifts again, swinging a leg over his hips so that she’s straddling him, causing his blood to instantly rush south as he takes in the sight of her. “You’re going to have to stop doing this.”

Concern furrows her brow, and for a moment, she looks as though she might climb off of him, but then she lets her hands rest on his chest. “Why?”

“Because I am very close to likening you to the Silver City right about now, and me being me, that wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

“Oh, how very like you to think of other people.”

“Saint Lucifer ought to make a return.”

“Is it possible for hell to freeze over twice?”

Before he can make some quip about how he can fully arrange that, she’s kissing him again, and any sarcastic comeback is deleted from his brain. All thoughts are on Chloe, on kissing her in particular, but there are a few that slip in noting how naked they both still are, how blissfully silent her cell phone has been thus far, and how much he’d like to have sex with her as many times ass his tired body will allow.

There’s no limit, really, except he thinks she might have to leave that dildo in the drawer for another day.

Smiling against her, his hands wind their way into her hair, a soft moan leaving her as he runs them through it. His fingers then fall to her cheeks, her jaw, tilting her in a way that allows him to kiss her more deeply until he can’t quite tell where he ends and she begins.

This is the most blissed out and happy he’s felt in a long time, a moment so perfect, he thinks he could drown in it. So of course, when her phone finally rings from its perch on his bedside table, it’s at this moment.

He has never hated the LAPD so much in the entire time they’ve been working together. Sure, there’s no way to know it’s them just yet, but given that it is still early, he’s almost positive they’re calling about another case.

“Fuck,” she mutters against his lips, attempting to pull away for half a second before he pulls her back down to him, and steals another two seconds from their employer. “Lucifer, I really should answer that.”

“Ooh, please do, tell them we’ve both fallen dreadfully ill and won’t be able to make it in today.”

“Very funny,” she replies as she rolls off of him, reaching over to grab her phone from the nightstand.

“Seriously, I’m running quite fever.” Fighting back the urge to laugh, he takes her free hand and presses it to his forehead. “I would be a danger to the entire city.”

The Detective’s eyes roll back in her head, then she finally answers the call, and Lucifer is left feeling more blue-balled than ever. “Decker.” And, oh, how he wishes he could hear that in any other context. Preferably a sexual one.

For a moment, he just watches her as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, his eyes falling over her lips, her chest, the glow of her skin in the ever increasing sunlight, and he lets himself forget that they’ve just been interrupted. All sound leaves the room, and while he’s vaguely aware that she’s talking, he doesn’t quite register the words. He’s too lost in his own mind to comprehend anything beyond this fantasy, to begin to fathom—

“That was exactly who we thought it was,” she says, his mind instantly snapping back into focus as she rolls out of bed completely, finding her underwear once again slung casually over the curve of his lamp. “We’ve got another case.”

Another groan leaves him. “Did you tell them we’d be there?”

“Well, yeah, it’s my job. I can’t just skip out of work because you want to lay around in bed all day.”

“So do you,” he protests, all but throwing his hands in the air as he starts to get out of bed. “You kissed me back just now when your phone started r— _fuck!_ ”

That aching sensation returns full force when he stands, reminding him that next time, they _really_ need to use more lube. That’s something he’ll have to tell her later, because they’re definitely doing this again, even in spite of the way she’s laughing at him now. “Sorry.”

“Oh, you laugh now, but I’ll get you back for this later.”

Another low laugh fills the air as he looks over to find her buttoning up her shirt, her body now tragically covered by clothing—oh, how he misses the Eden days right about now—as she makes her way over to his side of the bed. “Sure you will,” she replies, rising on the balls of her feet to plant another kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Before he can turn and kiss her again properly, she reaches around, and lightly smacks his left ass cheek, causing him to make a noise he’s not proud of as she backs away giggling. _Oh,_ he is definitely getting her back for this later. “De _tect_ ive, now that’s just not fair.”

The smile on her face is, well, downright _him_ -ish as she tosses him his slacks. “Put your clothes on, Lucifer. We have work to do.”

*

Getting into the car is an interesting experience. He can’t help wincing as he settles into the driver’s seat of his corvette, causing his partner to erupt into further laughter while he grumbles something about bloody silicone, but eventually, they manage to get out of Lux and onto the road.

The soreness, of course, flares up every so often throughout the drive, making him wonder how he’s going to handle himself at work. Everyone knows he can’t lie, and if someone asks him why he’s walking with a limp—because of course he’d limped to the car and now Chloe can’t stop making fun of him for it—he’s going to answer honestly. There’s no way to avoid it.

That theory gets tested immediately, when they pull up to the crime scene and Ella, camera in hand, already taking pictures of the poor, unfortunate dead fuck, gives them a wave in greeting. He and his partner wave back with their free hands—the others are occupied, of course, holding each other—as they approach, one of them walking and the other limping until they arrive within feet of the dead man.

The limp doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What happened to _you?_ ” Their forensic scientist asks with an amused grin blossoming on her face. “Stub your toe a little too hard this morning?”

“Now that would be rather embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” His gaze turns to Chloe, whose cheeks have gone pink even in spite of the laughter he can tell she’s just dying to let loose. “But no, if you must know, the Detective and I—“

Letting go of his hand, the Detective in question reaches behind him again to pinch the same cheek she’d smacked earlier. Another surprised yelp leaves him, then he falls quiet as she resumes lacing her fingers through his. Right, of course she isn’t as open about her private life as he is. He has to constantly remind himself not to run his mouth every time they have sex before coming into work, especially since last time he’d inadvertently told one of the traffic cops just how flexible she was in bed.

Well, he’d only implied it, but still. She’d been embarrassed enough that he’d had a talking to that very same afternoon. Hopefully, this won’t end the same way unless it also ends with some very inappropriate use of her handcuffs.

“Lucifer, not now.”

“But I—“

Eyes widening in the _shut up_ kind of way, Chloe lets go of his hand, and turns to give Ella as innocent a facial expression as she can muster. Unfortunately for her, their coworker already has her suspicions raised, a finger pointed their way as the camera comes to rest on the strap at her side. “What did you do now?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you love to know the details,” he mutters, and while that still leaves his partner glaring at him, it doesn’t earn him another smack to the ass. If he’s being honest, though, he wouldn’t mind if she did it again. He’s never minded a little pain, has he?

Glancing between them with a knowing look in her eye, Ella smirks, then holds up her camera. “Uh huh, I’ve got some ibuprofen in my bag if you need it.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” he replies.

“So what’s the cause of death?” Chloe asks, bringing the conversation back around to more professional matters, the reason for Lucifer’s limp soon forgotten as their friend chatters on animatedly about what led to the victim’s untimely demise.

But she, of course, is just the first in a long line.

*

The second person they run into who notices he isn’t walking quite right is, of course, Detective Douche. This of course makes him laugh, but Chloe, the second they spot him once they’re back at the precinct, is already stiff.

For her, it’s one thing for their friend to catch them like this. It’s another entirely to have to deal with her ex and father of her child, even if they’ve both long since made peace with working, coparenting, and—most importantly, to him at least—her relationship with the Devil. Dan’s actually been rather patient with them, but he’s certain the man has his limits.

How he’s going to feel about the reason for Lucifer’s current limp is going to be interesting, a mystery he can’t wait to solve. The Detective on the other hand, seems to be full of dread, if the way she’s gripping his hand means anything.

Tragically for her, they need him to provide them with a critical piece of evidence relative to their newest case. The shit-eating grin on his face is already large and only growing with each passing second as he and his Detective make their way toward Dan. “If you tell _him_ of all people anything, I swear to god—”

“De _tec_ tive, there is no need to bring my father into this.”

This time, her hand comes up to smack his chest. “Damn it, Lucifer.”

Before he can say anything else, there’s Dan, right in front of them, looking douchey as ever as he glances between them expectantly. “You all right, Lucifer?”

“He’s fine,” Chloe insists, speaking a touch faster than normal.

If she’s hoping to stop him from saying something she deems stupid, it doesn’t work. “Ah, why don’t you ask your lovely ex, I’m sure she’d be delighted to tell you.”

Dan’s eyes fill with amusement. “Whatever you two did in the sack last night, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Thank you,” the Detective replies, shoulders slumping with relief, but with him at her side, it’s tragically short-lived.

“Try feeling it.” A pause. “All day.” He looks at Chloe, whose cheeks have flushed a rather wonderful shade of red. “And likely into the evening assuming we don’t get any time apart. Wouldn’t that just be sinful?”

The man in front of them has his lips between his teeth, his eyes lit up with recognition and humor. He’s trying not to laugh, he’s trying very hard, and he’s on the cusp of failing. “Wow, Lucifer, I never pegged you for a sinner.” The sarcasm can’t be more obvious even if he says out loud that he’s being sarcastic.

“No, you haven’t, but your ex most certainly has.”

Regret fills Dan’s face, the smile falling like one of those amusement park rides that drops people two hundred feet, and he thinks he can hear him muttering something along the lines of, “Kill me now,” before he sighs dramatically. “Lucifer, I wish I’d never met you.”

His hand finds its way to his chest. “Oh, Douche, I never knew you cared.”

“Bite me.”

“Now, Daniel, it’s never a good idea to threaten me with a good time.”

Before the Douche can say anything back, his ex holds up a hand. “Okay, what do you have for us?” she asks, interrupting yet again. A pity, really, he was so hoping he could make one last sexual quip. They’ll probably have time later. “Can we please focus on the case?”

“I’d love to,” Dan replies, reaching for a file on the desk behind him, and handing it to his ex. “This is everything I have on the suspect so far.”

*

Mazikeen knows what’s going on the _second_ he and Chloe make a stop by Lux. He really could do this without her, they don’t need to be joined at the hip, but of course, she’s forgotten her badge in the penthouse, and that elevator ride isn’t quite far enough away for him to be invulnerable just because she goes upstairs without him.

Hell’s favorite demon proceeds to give him, well, hell.

“Oh, you look like hell,” she says the second they walk in, the Detective rolling her eyes as she makes her way up to the elevator. “Rough night?”

“The Detective will hate me for telling you this, but it was fantastic, actually,” he says, limping over as the elevator doors open, and Chloe walks inside.

Pointing a stern finger his way, his partner holds the doors open for another couple of seconds. “I know Maze is your friend, but she doesn’t need to know everything about our… life.”

“Come now, Detective, you can say sex, it’s not a dirty word.” Then upon the look she gives him when the doors start to close, he lets his shoulders relax. “All right, maybe it is to most people but not to me.”

By the time he finishes speaking, the doors are already closed, and Lucifer has finished limping his way to the bar, unsure whether or not it’d be worth it to try and take a seat. Maze, being Maze, picks up on this immediately. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll pour you a shot.”

Chuckling dryly, he places his hands on the bar, watching as his bartender pours them both a glass. “Please, this is hardly the first time you’ve seen me like this. You’ve done it to me a time or two.”

“Yeah, but I don’t make you vulnerable.” Setting down a glass in front of him, she leans on the bar with her elbows, sipping gently from her glass. “I never made you limp. No one has.”

Grumbling incoherently, he lifts his glass to his mouth. “Until now.”

That earns him a semi-wild cackle from Mazikeen. “I’m going to enjoy this. The devil has a limp. If hell could see you now.”

“They can’t and they won’t,” he replies, finally allowing himself the chance to sit. The ache flares to life anew, and he nearly chokes on his drink as it catches him off guard. “ _Fuck._ ”

Now Maze is losing it, a classic sort of cinematic laughter that makes him feel as though he’s being pointed at and laughed at in slow motion, except it’s almost affectionate. “Boss, you put a whole new meaning to the term, ‘butthurt.’”

“Don’t tell Amenadiel, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I’m sure he already knows, especially if you’ve been around Linda today.”

“Thank dad I haven’t.” Taking another sip, he sets down his drink. “Now there’s an idea. I could pop off to visit my nephew, do so without the Detective, give myself a chance to heal, and—”

The elevator dings its arrival, and he knows that plan is moot before it even gets a chance to take off. Seconds later, Chloe emerges, badge in hand, walking casually—albeit panting just a little—his way as she makes her way back to him. “It was on the bar. I barely had to walk in.” Her eyes come to rest on the drinks Maze had poured. “But you had time to grab a drink.”

“Maze offered.”

The demon in question nods. “That’s true.” But he can’t tell whether she’s referring to the offer or to the drink itself.

Looking as though she’s fighting the urge to roll her eyes yet again, the Detective holds up her phone. “We’ve got to head back to the precinct. Dan managed to track down our suspect and we’re going to need your mojo.”

Lucifer laughs, a touch nervously this time. “Sounds wonderful, Detective, but would you mind leaving the building for a second? Just a minute, maybe? Or five?”

“So you can heal and no longer limp around everywhere?”

“Yes, precisely.”

“I don’t know, the limp’s gotten better lately and you were just drinking. Alcohol numbs pain, right?” Then she walks past him, slipping her badge into her jacket pocket. “Come on.”

A few protests slip past him, stuttering and disbelieving as he looks between her retreating form and Maze, almost as if silently begging her to defend him. As usual, Maze leaves him in the dust. “You heard her, Lucifer, she needs your mojo.”

Muttering bitterly, he follows after her, even though he knows this stupid ache would go away if he just let her go out to the car on her own for a couple of seconds. He’s too far gone for her to ever think about doing otherwise.

Besides, if he ignores her now, she’ll just give him a brand new—yet also blissful—world of hurt tonight. That would mean he spends two days in a row going to work with a limp. Always a fun prospect when working with her.

So he finishes his drink, then follows her out, making their way out of Lux and toward the old corvette he loves so much. Their fingers lace, that familiar feeling of comfort settling in as their palms meet, and in spite of the soreness he can’t quite get rid of, he finds himself holding back a smile.

*

By some sweet twist of fate, he never has the misfortune of running into Amenadiel. This means, by proxy, he doesn’t run into Linda either, but it also helps that they don’t have an appointment. Not that there’s anything wrong with running into the doctor, she has that whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing he likes so much, but she still might let slip to his brother just what happened to him last night, and that isn’t a conversation he’d like very much to have with him.

Especially given that he’s not entirely certain the elder angel even knows what pegging _is._

He and the Detective manage to make it back to the penthouse for the night, the case temporarily put to rest until morning, and by that point, he’s starting to feel better. At least, there’s no longer any need for an unholy amount of ibuprofen or other painkillers to get rid of that ache he’s felt all day.

Being at home—well, it’s kind of home, they haven’t discussed a more permanent solution yet in their efforts to take things slow—doesn’t stop her from working, though. She’s got her laptop out at the bar, hair in a messy bun, and a cup full of some cocktail she’s conjured from the various liquors he keeps there, still working on the damned case.

They’re off the clock, though, and he wishes desperately that she would just come to bed with him. After all, his deepest desire, aside from this relationship lasting a very long time, is to just spend his days having sex with her until he can’t see straight. “Detective,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rests his head in the crook of her shoulder. “There’s a very nice bed in the other room, you know.”

All she does is shake her head. “I just need a few more minutes. We’re so close on this one, I can feel it.”

Grumbling softly, he turns his head just a little, planting a kiss just at the edge of the neckline of her shirt, fingers slipping ever so slightly upward as he plants another kiss, just a touch higher, at the base of her throat. “Must I wait for hell to freeze over a third time?”

“I take it you’re feeling better.”

“Much, thank you.” Another kiss, this time right over where her pulse is fluttering against her skin, a tingling sensation shooting down his spine as he kisses it a little more intensely. He’s going to leave a mark there, unless she stops him, but she seems determined to finish her work for the night, even as he sucks her skin between his teeth.

All she gives him is a moan, one he can tell she’s trying not to let loose, but he drives her just crazy enough to where she gives in, one of her hands fleeing the laptop to latch onto his curls as she leans into him. Satisfaction wells within him as he pulls back, kissing the little bruise he’s just left on her neck before placing another kiss just beneath the lobe of her ear. “Don’t you want to get me back for that?”

“If I spent all my time getting revenge on you for the shit you pull, I wouldn’t get anything done.”

“Mmm, fair enough, but I want you to.”

Turning slightly in her barstool, she meets his gaze through hooded eyes. “You may not be limping anymore, but you definitely should wai—”

“I wasn’t referring to your obscenely large appendage, Detective.” Now he’s grinning wickedly. “There is no limit to the things I would like to do with you.”

“Hmm, fair enough,” she replies, running her fingers through his hair as he kisses her cheek. “Just give me another minute.”

“Oh, but then another minute leads to another minute, and another minute—” This time, the kiss lands on the corner of her mouth. “And another minute.”

“Lucifer.”

“And I really am feeling better.” At last, he manages to capture her lips with his, surprised and not surprised all the same when she returns it, the hand in his hair sliding down to caress his jaw, holding him firmly against her as they begin to move together.

His heart starts fluttering in his chest, a still strange, but increasingly familiar feeling that only grows stronger as the kiss grows deeper. She’s got him completely wrapped around her finger, his entire body loose as the tension inside gets released with every brush of her lips against his. That combined with the sense of victory he feels over having gotten her to surrender her work on the case, even for a minute, makes it one of his favorite kisses they’ve shared lately.

Well, at least one of his favorites they’ve shared just today alone.

Still, she pulls away far too soon, patting him gently on the cheek as he all but whimpers at the loss of her. “One minute. I know you can wait.”

“Perhaps,” he replies, then he begins kissing the other side of her neck, still refusing to let go of her even as she resumes typing. To be fair, she doesn’t push him away, either, and so he has free reign to kiss her as much as he likes, carrying the little touches up to the line of her jaw as that minute she gave him slowly begins to pass.

When it’s over, and she still doesn’t move, one of his hands begins to move further up, fingers skimming gently over her chest, feeling the outline of her body through the thin shirt she’s currently wearing as she continues her work. Still she ignores him, and so as he sucks a mark into this side of her neck, parallel to the first, he lets his fingers brush over a hardened nipple, and that gets a reaction out of her.

This time, she makes a sound he can only describe as annoyed, then she clicks something on the mousepad and shuts the laptop. “You’re a nightmare,” she tells him, but she’s already rising from her seat, tugging on his hand as she leads him back to the bedroom.

All he can do is laugh as he follows her. “Finally.”

“You won’t be saying that when you’re limping _again_ tomorrow.”

“Oh, De _tec_ tive, I look forward to it,” he tells her, then she’s pushing him down onto the bed, crawling on top of him as he waits with eager anticipation for just what she’s going to do to him this time.


End file.
